Overdose
The needle’s bite dulls against the injection of your poison. It storms my veins when the taut strap loosens. I stagger some before plunging into a pool of desolation. The splash is silent, the impact innocuous. None know where this is. Not even you. Air bubbles slip past my lips. They dance their way above. It comforts me agreeably. I’m drowning inside the abandoned parts of your heart, so, if you find your days lighter, more beautiful, if you fall asleep easier, it is because my final resting place resides in this soul of yours; I will spend endlessness caressing it. My remnants will become a refuge for your spirit. Your poison is pure voltage, though, no pain. Strange, it does not feel like an end. Is this what death is? Who knew dying could feel so zoetic.
This is absolutely beautiful…a poignant reminder of the purity of a divine love. It reminds me that if we love sincerely and genuinely…we simply want our loved one to be cocooned in the warmth and safety of our depth and devotion. Indeed this profound intensity must feel like drowning in the abyss of an unselfish love. It nurtures the soul as well. That’s the kind of love that resists time and circumstance…the rarity worth fighting for. ☺️